


We were sea bound, and aimless at best

by hellokerry



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Cassian has feelings, F/M, Not A Fix-It, Rebelcaptain - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellokerry/pseuds/hellokerry
Summary: He could have loved her fiercely.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote my first Star Wars fic back in 2000 with pen and paper; now, I return. I wrote this while listening to "The Stable Song" by Gregory Alan Isakov on repeat for forever and if you ever want to indulge in the feeling of wanting to die, I highly recommend it.
> 
> ANYWAY, ENJOY??

Cassian has never thought about love. He’s never had the liberty to, at least - not with the Empire breathing down his throat and Mon Mothma at his heels, duty calls. Even the weary cannot sleep.

Jyn looks like she hasn’t slept in years and he thinks the same is probably true for him if he’s being honest. They both wear their scars like crosses, and it’s that sort of self-sacrificing bordering on masochism that initially drew him to her, a kindred spirit even though her eyes betrayed her distrust and her unknown alliance bubbling just below the surface. Cassian did not trust her either.

(He did not trust her, but he was drawn to her all the same. He shot a pseudo-ally, endangering the mission, to save her life and then he did not shoot her father. He disobeyed an order from the people who raised him for a woman who meant nothing and then he argued with her about it on the ship, because it felt like the right thing to do.)

On the way to Scarif, Jyn recedes into herself. She tucks herself in between two boxes of stolen cargo and Cassian watches her, waiting, contemplating, though what he’s deciding on he isn’t sure. They’re a long way from landing, hours still, and he wants to fill up the time with preparations, but can’t, and instead he watches the rise and fall of Jyn Erso’s chest. She cried the day after her father died, though later and out of sight, but Cassian had gone looking for her (he told himself he didn’t know why, but he wandered the base and felt something tug at his chest, something like concern). He tried to imagine what it would be like to see his parents again only to have them ripped away and couldn’t, but he stood outside the once empty briefing room now filled with Jyn Erso’s sobs and his buried pain morphed into something akin to affection - something, he thought, that given the right time and place could turn into more. Their souls were both wild, but maybe they could calm that storm together. Cassian had wandered the earth for 26 years looking for something to cauterize the gaping wound that the Empire left in his chest and maybe this was it, he thought foolishly, always idealistic. He wanted to gather her into his arms and press apologies into her skin: I know this pain and you will overcome it, or we could overcome it somehow together, because I’ve been searching for a cause my entire life and I think you’re it, Jyn Erso. I think this could mean something.

He doesn’t, though, because this isn’t their moment; it isn’t his. Jyn cries alone and later he passes her in the hallway, her eyes strong and defiant and she grips his arm tightly, “we are going to Scarif.” 

Cassian grins.

This is the moment before, as Bodhi slips Rogue One into hyperspace. The moment before fear and death and the tunnel vision that comes with completing the single most important mission of his life. Before they make it into the Imperial base, before they lose K, before he falls and Krennic tries to shoot her, as if Cassian would let the mission fail while he still had breath in his body (he doesn’t think about the mission as he scales that tower, not once, because all of his thoughts are consumed by _I cannot let her die I cannot let her die I cannot let her die._ )

Later they will trudge out onto the beach with the world exploding around them and Cassian’s life bleeding out of his stomach, and he will feel Jyn’s fingers gripping his side, the weight of her as she leans against him. For a moment he will allow himself to imagine what it might have been like to kiss her (he will never get to kiss her) and have those fingers caress his chest. Cassian imagines all of the possibilities he never allowed himself to before: a home, children, a lifetime of things that barely ever change and are joyous in that sameness, that security. Cassian never expected to grow old and nothing about this death is surprising, but what’s surprising is that he wants more now. He wants to grow old, but he’ll settle for this moment, this time, with Jyn’s head tucked into his shoulder. 

The last thing he ever feels in the world is her hair tickling his cheek.

(Cassian dozes on the ride to Scarif and dreams that he wakes on base. Jyn smiles as she takes his hand and leads him forward.

“Come on, Cassian,” she laughs. 

Cassian stumbles as he rushes forward with her and he can’t help but think how pretty she is, her eyes trusting and kind. He’s being enveloped by her warm glow, or maybe it’s just her smile. They stop running and he drags her to him, wrapping her in his arms. The world has never felt so light even though they’re here on this beach on the precipice of a life unrealized, the moment before, and he never gets to kiss her, but Cassian holds Jyn in his arms and everything about that feels like it could be enough.

Cassian never thinks about love. He only thinks about Jyn.)


End file.
